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Apr 2011
The cold grey clasp of Sunday
Skies blocked by an eternal ****** of crows
Fingers engrossed upon the neck
Asphyxiate existence from seamless seams
Decant the ocean obscene
Where once we were gone in a reverie
...Now only Monday is a day away
Waiting like a shadowed adversary
We obstruct our eyes
And wish the days away
Brandon
Written by
Brandon  On the edge of your taste
(On the edge of your taste)   
3.1k
   Hamad
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